Party Animals
The Steel Balloon Within the Steel Balloon, there is a dance floor immediately past the front door. Behind the floor is the main bar, which curves around like an elongated half-octagon. Several bartenders busily serve the customers that flow into this place at any given time. Triggerhappy and Blowpipe are sitting at a table at the Steel Balloon, enjoying a bit of downtime after having once again almost died recently. This time, it had been Whirl and Repugnus attacking the Absolution while it was undergoing repairs. Whirl apparently had this prodigious obsession with taking Shockwave down himself--and he had actually come close to doing so, had it not been for Blast Off and Dustoff coming to their rescue. Actually, more like had it not been for Blowpipe managing to punch through with a distress call. But the Targetmaster can't complain! He'd prefer that over boredom any cycle! He takes a swig of a glass of high-grade engex. "Heh, you really did it that time, Blowpipe." he asides to his partner. "I have to admit, Shockwave and I kinda owe you our sparks now." Wrapping his arms around Blast Off's Shoulder, Misfire smiles with genuine glee, "What I tell you ISN'T THIS THE BEST!" Misfire bobs his head towards a giant disco ball over the dance floor, "Is spins and sparkles...AND best of all...it is DISCO NIGHT!" Aimless who trails the group, "You even know what Disco is Misfire?" Misfire laughs, "Nope!" Aimless sighs, "At least the drinks are cheap tonight..." Misfire looks at Blast Off and speaks, "Now, aren't you glad I rearranged our schedule? And talked you in to flying us here?" Misfire then points at Triggerhappy as he sees him! "TRIGS!!!" Blast Off is torn between swatting away at Misfire, who does not quite understand the shuttle's great need for personal space, and simply being glad that somebody actually wants to hang around with him in the first place. He decides for the third option: to take a sip of his drink instead. "I suppose. But if this is Disco night... I'm glad we just missed the 1970s on Earth." He sees Trig as well and has a brief moment of hoping the other Con won't see them...no, too late- Misfire calls out to him. Ah well, he goes back to nursing his drink. It's strange to be back here so soon after having an odd encounter here with Blurr of all mechs... He'd like to forget that, too, and takes yet another sip. However... it occurs to him he might be spending TOO much time here lately.... "Yes, well. I don't expect any sort of recognition beyond that." Blowpipe answers, shaking his head. "I'm sure Shockwave knows it, however. He will not forget." But Triggerhappy's attention has already been diverted by Misfire's shouting. "Misfire!" he waves the other Con over to his table. "You too, Blast Off. I guess I'm not surprised to find you two here." he comments, grinning. Holding up his hands, he orders five glasses of the good stuff, liberally throwing his paycheck on the bar counter, "Hahaha! You know me too well Trigs." Misfire looks at Triggerhappy, "What are you doin' here?" He then looks at Blast Off, "The 1970s?" Misfire asks. "What are the 1970s?" Aimless just grabs his drink and goes to a corner and downs it. Blast Off looks into his glass at Triggerhappy's greeting. "That does it. I am *definitely* spending too much time at this place. I don't even LIKE bars." He looks over at Misfire. "I only know of that time period from what I have seen of the fleshling's movies. They apparently involve giant "man-eating" sharks that make fleshlings require larger watercraft, uncomfortable looking plastic suits (sort of armor...but not...) and ..."funky" music. Or... something. However, it is also the decade of time that they came up with "Star Wars"... which almost made the movies of that decade tolerable. Still laughably ignorant of space flight... but amusing nonetheless." Triggerhappy laughs as Misfire engages in gratuitous spending on the good engex. "That I do. But don't say that as if it's a bad thing!" He then gives Blast Off a curious look, then smirks. "Ha, you sure know a lot about Terran culture. When the slag did you ever find the time to watch all that stuff?" he asks. He's totally not hinting that the Combaticon is a slacker who wastes time. Nope. "Or did you spend a few deca-cycles with the Junkions, or something?" Dustoff makes his way in, optics scanning the dance floor first and foremost... Hmm. Well, it's different. He does spy Triggerhappy up and about, and makes a few mental notes. Good to see the once blasted Mech's actually functioning. After his initial assessment, the medic starts towards the group of familiar faceplates, whistling softly until he's in casual earshot. "Yo! My mechs! Everyone staying away from the non-firewalled interfaces, I hope? I mean, I'd love to test out some new anti-virus procedures and all, but, hey, if I'm not working, you're either dead or happy, right?" "Wait, sharks eat men?" Misfire looks confused and then sips his drink. "Wait, there is music that isn't funky?" Misfire looks around, "Star Wars? The Missile Shield thing? Whaaaa?" Misfire sips his drink as he looks at Triggerhappy, and then Blast Off, "So, I am setting the over/under at a bar fight at three drinks...takers?" Blast Off gives a derisive snort to Triggerhappy. "You're kidding, right? You really don't know what I was stuck doing those years we were on Earth? When I wasn't being disassembled by my ever-so-thoughtful teammate Swindle for spare parts, or waking up in the jungle as a bomber plane, I had the joy of endlessly orbiting Earth, providing satellite scans, monitoring, radio communication relays, and other endless... yet admittedly important... chores for the Decepticons. Sometimes I was in orbit as long as eight months. ...Sometimes about all I HAD to do otherwise was pick up Earth communications- like television broadcasts. It was... unimaginably tedious." he takes another sip. "Misfire, It was confusing. And... will say four." He hands Misfire a shanix. Onslaught's entrance is probably signaled by the fact that he's stomping his way towards the bar. When he enters, his optics are already busy singling out each and every mech in this place, the place itself, the exits, the possible hazards to himself (and as an after thought process: his Combaticons) and a couple of other things. His massive form continues to stand just inside for another moment before he finally decides on making his way towards the bar itself. Looking at him might suggest that he's working on a plan. He looks too focused to actually be here for full on socialization of any sort. Because, well, everyone here is beneath his epic level stature. "Tch, wow." Triggerhappy shaks his head at Blast Off's story. "Well now I feel sorry for you, Blast Off." he says, handing Misfire a few shanix as well for the drinks and taking a swig of his own glass. "I think I'd probably end up assigning myself to some kind of suicide mission." The Targetmaster nods at Dustoff as the medic enters. He shrugs at the question. "Guess so, but never really stop to check on that kind of thing, either. But trust me, you medics will always have plenty to do, unless we're all dead, that is." Taking the shanix, Misfire smiles at Blast Off "Four? That is optimistic friend." He then smiles at Triggerhappy, "I should warn you, when Triggerhappy gets to two, the Dakka happens. And then more Dakka, and then Dakka Dakka Dakka Dakka...." Misfire jerks his head up as he feels the presence of......a Commander, a handy skill on avoiding work, locking on Onslaught, Misfire gasps and ducks his head and looks at Blast Off. "Say, friend...Not to put a damper on your mood, but your Boss is here. He still uptight?" Misfire asks Blast Off, he then leans back towards Triggerhappy, "Suicide Missions? I have survived 1,356 such missions, if you need pointers..." Misfire looks at Dustoff, "Doc that have a cure for hangovers yet?" Misfire smoothly pockets the shanix from Triggerhappy. Blast Off spots Onslaught enter the bar. Frag. Is he here because the shuttle's been hanging around at the bar too much? Or is this possibly about his recent unwilling AWOL-ness at Sogo? or maybe it's entirely unrelated and Onslaught will come, say hi, you're doing SUCH A GREAT JOB, here's your VP of the Month plaque, and leave. Yeah, that'd be nice. Not slaggin' likely, but sometimes dreams are all you have.... He finally notices Dustoff and nods to the mech. Dustoff is actually all right... he did a surprisingly good job at keeping Triggerhappy fromn leaking onto his cargo bay as badly as he COULD have... He cringes at Misfire's mention of "dakka". "Don't remind me...." and then cringes a bit more. "I.... have no idea of his current mood. I'm guessing "busy". But, thanks... I think. I... might need the help. We shall see." "Unless you had 'some hair of the dog that bit you', as the humans say." A smooth, rich voice comes up from behind Dustoff suddenly, the mech finding hands at his shoulders and a wickedly toothy grin out of the corner of his optic as Scorn makes herself known. How long has she even been here? "Having a good evening, I hope?" She asks the group of mechs taking up space at the bar, though tone suggests she doesn't care too much while she sidles up and orders an enertini. Shockwave says, "Scorponok." Onslaught takes a seat at the bar and makes with the ordering of the only drink that he actually partakes in via public socialization times: "Hannibal." is all he says, turning around on the stool to lean back against the bar. He peers out and across the establishment with slightly distracted optics, likely due to the fact that his thought processes are zipping around at hyper speed as he works on a few dozen plans at the same time. And about twenty back up plans for that dozen. When his optics pass over Blast Off, he pauses just a bit to narrow those optics at him. He just stares at him for a long moment as if waiting for an explanation. And his drink. Scorponok says, "BUSY, Shockwave." Dustoff grins at Scorn. "Of course. At least I am. Counting how many future patients I might have and hoping a fight breaks out to increase that." He crosses his arms as he watches Onslought, leaning in towards Blast Off. "I think he's making a pass at you. Or asking for his salute." The medic sets a few credits on the counter and looks back at the mech working there. "Something fun, and make it two. What brings you out this way, Scorn? Fight Club?" Peering around, Misfire looks between Blast Off, Dust Off, and Triggerhappy. "Busy? Busy sounds good...busy sounds like 'punishment' won't happen...Let's keep it busy." Misfire smiles at Dustoff, "Say Doc, heard any go..." Misfire pauses as he hears a voice, bolting up from his seat, he makes his way towards Scorn, bobbing his head at her, "Sup..." He then looks around and slides back into his seat. "Good jokes, Doc?" Misfire asks Dustoff without missing a beat. Blitzwing punches the front door of the Steel Balloon, twisting the frame and he obnoxiously stomps inside. As usual, the triplechanger blows right by everyone and makes a Buzzkill-line for the bar, shouldering his way through the gyrating collective of the dancefloor in the rudest of ways, severing couples and knocking scores of patros over. Blitzwing scans the bar, notices the equally large Combaticon commander. The triplechanger's face curls into a wolfish grin and he strides over to Onslaught, slapping him heavily on the back several times, forcefully enough that the resultant smacks can be heard over the din of the nightclub's typical festivities. "Onslaught! I hate you. I mean, evening! What're you having? Bar wench! Another round my ugly friend here! And the usual for myself." Blitzwing flashes Onslaught a faux smile, settling down on a bar stool while he waits for beverages to arrive. "Did you get anything useful out of my killing your children?," he asks, in reference to a series of sparring matches that occured recently with Vortex and Blast Off. Blast Off nods to Scorn and raises a glass to her. "A mech with class!" Then he looks over at Onslaught, who looks... like he's expecting something. Sigh. He blinks and sputters at Dustoff, "Pff-what? That's my Boss! I think he wants an explanation. Which... I probably owe him." He nods to Misfire, Dustoff, and Trig. "Excuse me." and gets up, ordering another drink and bringing it to Onslaught. Oh great, Blitz just arrived. He shakes his head, ignoring him for now and returns to focusing on Onslaught, who he salutes because that probably will please the military commander. He hopes. "I have an explanation, if you care to hear it." Scorn pauses midsip at Misfire's greeting, offering one in turn in the form of a cheeky smile while leaning in. "Well hello there, Misfire. Didn't bring your little gun along today?" She questions, optics scanning the floor as if looking for a pest to scurry over her feet any moment now. Glancing back to Dustoff she grins. "Not at all. If anything I'm the clean up crew. But no, simply looking for a drink and company is all." And more company cetainly does arrive in the form of a triplechanger, her antennas twitching before she peers over to him and sends him a simple tip of her glass in greeting and smiles. "Somehow I knew you'd show up here eventually." Dustoff looks over at Misfire. "Of course! How's this one. So, there's a human female and a Decepticon. Little Susie, the female, tosses a clock out the window. The Decepticon, who happens to only have one eye, inquires, 'Why did you do that?' She replies, 'I wanted to see time fly!' The Con, who we'll call Waveshock, says, 'Ah ... A perfect subject for elimination,' and shoots her with a laser beam through the face." The medic nods sagely before turning back to Scorn. "Well, I'm not the best drink, but company I can do. How are you holding up? No stragglers running through the swamps lately, I take it?" Peering at Blast Off, Misfire moves to stop his friend, but thinks better of it. Seeing that Blitzwing is there, Misfire smiles, "This is going to get..." He then pauses as Scorn says his name...like a puppy dog, Misfire darts back towards Scorn, "You know my name? I mean..." Misfire frowns, "Heya Scorn!" Misfire stares then blinks, "My little gun..." Misfire looks down for a long moment. "It isn't...OHHHH!!!!" Misfire smiles sheepishly as he points at the corner where Aimless is drinking alone. "There is Aimless!" He looks warmly at Scorn, before looking at Dustoff....staring...blankly, he then remembers he asked for a joke, so he starts laughing! "HAHAHAHAHAHA!" He then whispers to Scorn, "That was fun, right?" Harrow is here purely for medical research, to watch the wild Cybertronians hiss and claw and preen at one another as they become intoxicated. She lingers near the entrance, swishing her unopened drink, optics narrowed. Her gaze settles on Scorn, and she sashays over, shoving Misfire aside. "Scorn! Open my drink. With your mandibles." "Everything is useful except you, Blitzwing." Onslaught doesn't miss a beat in responding to the annoyance that has decided to take up residence near him. He even reaches for his Hannibal and brings it up to sip from it. He is, after all, busy working as much intimidation as silently possible. He does not have time to get into verbal sparring matches with the likes of Blitzwing. Or anyone, for that matter. "Rather, I can make anything useful." And there's a pause that is followed by a scoff as he spares a quick cut optics glance at Blitzwing. "Almost." It is about at this moment that Onslaught turns his attention to the recently arrived Blast Off. He crosses his arms over his chest, ignoring the drink that is brought to him, as he happens to have one of his own. "I'm listening." There is no return salute either, which likely means that Onslaught is more crabby than usual today. Preparing to put down the smoothest line ever, Misfire opens his mouth. "Sup...ahhhhhhh!" Misfire caught off guard by Harrow tumbles over a stool as Harrow pushes him aside. Misfire looks upwards, grabbing at his head, "Uhhhh..." Aimless gets up from his corner and saunters over towards Misfire, "You are improving Misfire, you only got pushed away and not slapped and a drink thrown in your face." Misfire smiles, "Really? You think I did good?" Aimless shrugs, "Sure, but you should pay, I always say...." Misfire frowns and pulls himself up and orders a drink for himself. Aimless tugs at Misfire, "Smoke?" Misfire sighs and then hands Aimless a smoke," Just this once..." Aimless snatches it and runs away to his corner. Scorponok says, "Alright, Shockwave, I finished scraping some errant rust off the bottom of my foot. What did you need?" Shockwave says, "Of your first and third objectives, which has the priority?" Like a fly to honey. The mantis notes Misfire coming back immediately and smirks inwardly, about to loop an arm around his shoulders and maybe say something about another little gun and be terrible lewd, but the bane that is Harrow worms her way in instead. Scorn gives the seeker a flat look as well as the can. "Is this what Seekers have been reduced to? Unable to open cans?" She scoffs, snagging the can. But if Harrow wants a party trick then she'll get one. The lower half of her face splits open in sections to show off even more teeth before she simpley bites off the top of the can, a few drops spilling while handing it over and swallowing the metal. "There. Happy?" She says with clattering mandibles before working them back into place like a snake with a dislocated jaw. "Are you implying I go running about in swamps?" She questions Dustoff while wiping lower lip with a thumb and stealing a sip of wine. "That's more Kickback's territory. I much prefer.. cleaner environments." Scorponok says, "I want to make sure the galaxy's collective militaries are in too poor of a shape to try something like this again. The first." Shockwave says, "Understood." Dustoff watches the can-opening show, taking a sip of his own drink while he's at it. There's a nod as Harrow's given the mandible-mangled can, but nothing said otherwise. "Did I? No, however I do know that more than a few of the lesser lackeys have ventured out that way and vanished. I'd assume they sunk in a pit of mud..." He grins. "Had a few records to clean out and mark as 'MIA'." Scorponok says, "That's all, Shockwave? I do miss our banter sometimes." Shockwave says, "That is all, Scorponok." Shockwave says, "With this latest crisis behind us, we have the opportunity to take the initiative." Shockwave says, "I am confident you have many detailed plans to turn the current situation to our advantage." Lord Zarak says, "Mmm, yes, Shockwave, though we must also keep in mind that our casualties during that conflict were more significant than the Autobots'. We can't get too far ahead of ourselves." Harrow smiles serenely, "Oh yes, my fumbly seeker hands can't grip the tab, so /thank you/." She takes the mangled can and smirks. "Good to know I can still get Insecticons to do my bidding. Misfire, you shouldn't let your pet Nebulan smoke!" Shockwave says, "Then I look forward to discussing strategy with the both of you, as well as Director Contrail, Executrix Fusillade, Scourge, and the other senior Commanders." Blast Off is left holding two drinks. And no return salute, either. Yeah, this isn't promising. He sets one drink down and is tempted to take a swig from the other, but thinks better of it. The shuttleformer may have been drinking enough lately that, for once, he feels compelled to owe up. His pride does not like to admit to mistakes, but it also requires that he stay professional and do his job- including be a good soldier. And he knows if he lies, Onslaught would see through it, anyway. He states briskly, "I realize my absence was inexcuseable. I let my desire to defeat Blurr cloud my judgement and I allowed him to lure me into a trap. Which resulted in a liability to you and the other Combaticons. I... did not perform to the standards you rightfully expect of me." He awaits his fate. However, he notices Apeface enter the building- horrors- and will leap away if the big ape comes anywhere NEAR him. That last detail does it, though... he grabs and downs that first glass in one shot, THEN awaits his fate. Scorponok says, "Yes, yes, whatever." Peering over at Harrow, "You know my name...errr...Heya Harrow!" Misfire nods his head, "That is what I said, I said it would stunt his growth. But Aimless then said he was fully grown, and I said Really? And he said, Are you calling me short? I said, Yeah. Then it set my Blurr Racer Rookie Card on fire, and I was going to sell it for retirement, and he was like, I hate you. And I was like, I hate you. Then he cried, and Then I laughed. Then he kicked me, and a yelped." Aimless looks at Misfire, "You are rambling." Misfire looks, "Really? Oh ok...so, uh, look story short, we agreed he can smokes when he is good. Well, less bad." Misfire then flashes the okay sigh. "It works for us." Suddenly, Donkey Kong barges onto the scene! Oh wait, no.. it's just Apeface. Spasma is there too but it appears he's been duct taped to the big burly Decepticon's neck in his head mode. Sucks to be him! "HEY! I heard there was some kind of party in here and I wasn't invited!? That's some BULLLSHIT!" The Horrorcon saunters through the bar, swinging his arms around and purposefully smacking everyone he passes in the face. "Haw haw haw! Hey, someone get me a SPACE BEER!" Dustoff looks at Harrow. "If you've got Dexterity problems, I can take a look. Might have to operate on a few fiber-optic leads, maybe even a transplant... but it's fixable." He grins. Hard to tell if he's joking or not... Knowing him, though? He's on both sides of the fence with that one. Misfire, of course, draws a very perplexed look. It's not often one hears of a mech getting kicked in the shin by a Nebulon, after all. Scorn shrugs at Dustoff. "Well, if they were scheduled to go to the swamps they're as good as dead, in my opinion. Like you said, stuck in the mud. And either sucked down or eaten by Insecticlones. Or even Snapdragon, since I hear he likes to wallow in that filthy place, wouldn't be surprised if he scavenged." She's content to chat away with the medic, maybe even make a deal or two in terms of 'body disposal', but Harrow just had to make the comment. "..Would you hold this a moment?" She questions the doctor and passes off her drink, taking the opportunity to slide up behind Harrow while she's busy with Misfire. "I'm sorry, what was that?" She says lowly with a faint, toothy smile on her lips. "Why Harrow, /darling/, don't be so silly." The Seeker may find both hands upon her wings with claws digging is while the mantis hovers over her shoulder. "Maybe it's just a favor, which I'm sure you could return in the future.." Will this lead to a catfight or something more? Unfortunately it may not happen at all when Apeface enters the room, Scorn immediately tensing a bit and peering at him over her shoulder, a grimace on her face. Staring blankly at Apeface, Misfire shrugs, "You didn't get your invitation?" Misfire looks at Aimless, who shrugs at him, Misfire then turns to Apeface and shrugs, "Say, Apeface...you wanted a Space Beer?" Misfire moves to the bar, and orders a beer which he grabs and offers to Apeface. Dustoff takes Scorn's drink and drains another swig of his own as he settles back. Apeface is given a glance, but his attention's on Harrow and Scorn... Entertainment Tonight has made its debut on Cybertron! Or, well, maybe. Harrow watches Misfire dissolve into aimless (hoho) ramblings. "...You should probably take better care of your unfortunately named weapon," she offers, and readily ducks to avoid flailing ape hands as Apeface tromps in. "I needn't repair, DUSTOFF, can't you see I'm baiting the Insecticon!" Then Scorn addresses her with a creepy smile. "Return the favor? Alas, I don't have those terrible appendages sticking out of my face, I couldn't open a can for you." Hip-shake. But now Scorn's claws are on her wings, and she whirls around to fling her drink at her! "DO NOT TOUCH ME, INSECT!" "It doesn't happen again." Onslaught doesn't have too much else to say but that exactly. He's really barely even paying attention to anything that's being said right now, since he just wanted to know what in the worlds was up with Blast Off. And now he has this knowledge. He immediately goes back to taking a strong swig of his Hannibal and glaring with his optics at random mechs that are scattered around. "Awww yeah!" Apeface grabs the SPACE BEER in his massive monkey paw, making it look like a miniature version of itself in comparison. "Thanks bro! You da best!" His toothy grin spreads and he goes to take a swig.. but ends up dropping the entire bottle down into his gullet, devouring it completely with a loud CRUNCH. "Mmm, that hit the spot! YO be a pal and grab me another, I got a lot of partying to do!" He gives Misfire a big smile, chunks of glass sticking out from between his teeth. It's then that he spots an ensuing catfight between Harrow and Scorn and, being well.. Apeface, he decides to get involved. "Hey hey hey.. what's going on here?" He siiidles up to the two, swinging his long arms around their shoulders and pulling them both close against his broad chest. "You two ladies aint getting in a scrap, are ya? It would be a real shame to see those pretty little faces of yours all torn up, hahahaha!" He snorts loudly and turns his head to hock a big, wet loogie onto the foor behind him. "I know, why don't yall kiss and make up?" Triggerhappy has been busy getting overcharged for a few breems, but he laughs at Misfire's rambling. "So bottom line is, you got into a fight with a puny fleshling. Okay." Tch, typical! But that's Misfire for you, and eveyrone loves Misfire so it's all good! And then Apeface comes in and smacks people in the face on purpose, which unfortunately includes Triggerhappy. And Misfire was right about the "dakka dakka" thing being associated with drinking. "HEYyyyyy, don't get your axles in a twist, Apeface! 'Course we invited you!" He can be heard stifling a laugh at the sound of the Horrcon's name. Somehow, his guns appear and go off randomly. Combat: Triggerhappy sets his defense level to Fearless. Blast Off blinks. Well, that went better than he expected. He stands there a moment. Suddenly- gunfire. From Triggerhappy, naturally. Looking over at Misfire, he calls out, "What number of drinks are we on now? Remember- I said four before the shooting began!" Combat: Triggerhappy's Laser attack on Triggerhappy goes wild! Combat: Triggerhappy strikes Scorn with his Laser attack! Flashing Harrow a smile, then Apeface a wider smile! "You got it pal!" Misfire does that annoying finger guns at Apeface. "If you need, anything else...I'LL be over there." Misfire points in two opposite directions. Carefully, Misfire makes it to Aimless, "We got to go, Aimless." Aimless looks at him blankly."Why?" Whispering, Misfire points, "See, Harrow and Scorn are about to fight..." He then points at Blast Off and Onslaught, "And Combaticons and booze, trust me, that is a blast blast blast situation." He then points at Apeface, "And well, Apeface." He then points at Dustoff, "And, he looks like he wants to cut someone open." He then waves broadly at Triggerhappy who starts to shoot at him, Misfire ducks, smiling at his friend. "And, now Triggerhappy thinks it is Dakka time...And who is the most expendable Decepticon here?" Aimless who yips as the fire goes over him, looks at Misfire, "Uh, us." Misfire nods and waves at everyone, "So, I left the oven...just going to turn it off, and be right back!" Combat: Misfire begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Blast Off Well, this could've taken a turn for the hot, but apparently Harrow is too frigid a femme, or just didn't catch on. Damn. Scorn is met with a drink in her face and boy do those optics flare bright, her mouth splitting open again in a nasty hiss. "Impertinent scrap heap!" She screeches at her, about to make a move to bite, but Apeface snags them up just in time, to which she shrieks in response and struggles against him. "Agh! Put me down you giant buffoon!" Harrow reacts very much the same way as Apeface's horrible arm draws around her. "Argh! Unhand me you idiot! I have this mantis to stab in the face!" Yes, Harrow didn't catch on. :( She pauses in her thrashing. "Who's firing!?" Dustoff jumps as gunfire goes off. "Woah! Cease fire, cease fire!" He sets his drink to the- Nah, he finishes it off and sets an empty drinking mug to the side. HA! Priorities... He scans the area, looking for a source, and to make sure no one's lying in a pool of energon on the ground. And just when the fight was looking to get good... Or, well, it had potential. Until Apeface. But still! "Anyone hit?" Looks like Apeface got here just in time to ruin what would've been a positively sexy lady fight. Rawr! "Awwww come on now Scorn baby, don't be like that! I'm just trying to keep you from gettin' into trouble!" The Horrorcon's head begins to tremble as if trying to escape but he gives it a hard smack with the palm of his hand to keep it still. "Heheheh.. ol' noggin's bein' a bit of a whiner again." He looks over at the other sexy lady he has trapped in his monkey grip. "Ladies, ladies, please! Can't we all just get along? Ya'll can kill eachother later when I aint here, but for now hows about we just get a little toasted and have ourselves a little fun?" He grins widely, globs of foul-smelling material plainly seen oozing out from between a few of his teeth. You can practically see the cartoonish smell lines. "Who knows? Maybe we'll black out and wake up in my recharge slab. Haw haw haw haw! GRUNK!" Blast Off sees Misfire rush out before he hears a response. Well, now he'll never know. He watches Scorn and Harrow get grabbed by Apeface... and is simply glad it's not him this time. He nods to Onslaught and heads backs towards Dustoff and Triggerhappy, but not before stopping at the bar for another drink. He walks up and says, "Look, Triggerhappy... you made Misfire leave. Stop shooting your friends and they might stick around more..." as he sits back down on a chair. Kill her now. Please. The mere thought of waking up in the morning with Apeface is almost enough to make her tank flip right then and there, but she forces it down. Like hell she'll stick around him, not after he dragged her off last time. "Don't make me purge." She scoffs and does something she may regret immediatly after. Attempting to get free the mantis does the only thing she can. Bite his hand. /Hard/. Maybe even chew away in Insecticon fashion if he needs more insentive. Dear Primus it tastes so bad. "UUUUGH!" Harrow shrieks. "FOUL BEAST!" At least Scorn makes herself useful. "HELP!" she flails at the rest of the 'cons that are just SITTING AROUND. "He's gone mad!" Blitzwing laughs heartily, pinching Onslaught's faceplate. "Aren't you cute. Just like a kitty - harmless and photogenic." Blitzwing takes a long drag from the overflowing beer stein that arrives in his hand, wiping away the frothy head with a satisfied exhalation. He turns away from the Combaticon commander, content to let the mech stew indignantly, fearing no reprisal whatsoever. The ruckus from across the club does catch his attention, though. Blitzwing wheels about his bar stool, nudging Blast Off with an elbow. "50 shanix on the mantis. Who you got, Babe Off?" Dustoff is...somewhat satisfied no one is bleeding out. But then there's Scorn eating through Apeface's hand, and Harrow yelling for backup. Also, Blast Off glitching around like it's cool (and cheap animation labor). "I'm guessing... I end up fixing three mechs today." He glances at Harrow. "Sorry! Noncombatant in a non-combat zone! Can't help you. As one of two functional medics here, if you are damaged, and I am damaged, I put everyone at unnecessary risk. Afraid that, for the better good, I've got to play safety observer." Apeface breaks out into a disgusting laughter (yes, Apeface is so gross even his laughter is nasty) as he recieves a nasty little bite from Scorn. "HAW HAW HAW! GRUUUUUUNK! That was a good one!" The bite actually causes him to bleed a bit and his energon tastes just as disgusting as it looks; murky and oddly coloured with what appears to be chunks of.. something floating around in it. How does he even manage to operate with this gunk flowing through him? The screaming and flailing from Harrow doesn't seem to bother him as he just tightens his grip on both roboladies. "Now it's my turn!" The Horrorcon's lips spread to reveal his sharp, pointy teeth very unbecoming of something that's supposed to be an ape, his nasty breath wafting through the air. He hefts Scorn up to his jaws, looking like he's about to bite off her antennae when suddenly his entire head quakes and shivers before finally breaking free of the duct tape that holds it down, flying through the air and landing upon the ground in the form of SPASMA! "UGH! That was.. that's.. UGH." Spasma looks like he's going to be sick. "The horrors I've seen.. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy." "Huh?" Triggerhappy just gives Blast Off a confused look, then looks down at his arms and realizes he's just discharged his photon guns. Pff, shooting is so second nature to him; sometimes it just happens without him giving it much thought. Or any thought at all. It seems Apeface is trying to kidnap the females. Or something. Well Harrow was shrieking about something, anyway. But who doesn't want to see a catfight? "Hey...let the fems do what they want, Apeface...here, I'll buy you some more engex, and we can bet on the winner or something." Since he has his guns out, he might as well do something. And since he loves shooting so much, too, he fires again, but this time with a little more preference toward Apeface. Combat: Triggerhappy strikes Apeface with his Laser attack! -1 Blast Off makes no move to help the femmes. You think he's going anywhere near Apeface? Yeah right. Scorn didn't even acknowledge his toast earlier, so he just watches coldly. But "cold" is something the space shuttle shares with his icy natural environment, anyway. To Blitzwing, he says. "50 shanix on Harrow." He just shakes his head at Triggerhappy. But finally- Trig does something useful and shoots the blasted ape. Well- only useful as long as that ape doesn't come this way. In fact... Blast Off says, "Pardon me." and leaves again, heading back to the bar and away from Trig and Apeface. He needs another drink. The shuttleformer looks back, and asks. "Blitzwing? Need another ener-beer? Or a cosmic martini? They're quite good." Harrow glares daggers at Dustoff. "I cannot WAIT to find you on the battlefield with your guts strung out! Ooooh!" She flinches when Triggerhappy fires on the ape. "Oh my-! Watch it! Agh!" She basically just squirms and thrashes and complains very loudly, /shocked/ that no one would want to help her. Aside from Triggerhappy. "I REPAIR YOU SORRY SOBS!" Dustoff mmmhms. "Yep." He orders another drink, and a refill for Scorn's, assuming the insecticon will need it terribly after this ordeal. Of course, Apeface loses his head, and this does bring some sense of amusement to the Medic's face as he watches. "Hey, I helped you! Quit whining!" Triggerhappy protests. Scorn is luckily smart enough to not even dare swallow whatever she chews off, instead just spitting it out. But nothing's working. And then the worst happens, Apeface is about to bite her! "Agh, no no!" She attempts to claw his face as he gets closer, but his face has better things to do and leaps off, turning into Spasma. Thank Primus. Unlike Harrow, Scorn at least has another trick up her sleeve, having enough of trying to struggle from the impossibly strong grip. "Screw this.. You're on your own, Harrow." And with that the femme begins to shrink until she's nothing in nearly the blink of an optic! Turning into tiny mode she makes a dash for it, buzzing rapidly until she's at Blitzwing whom she scurries under an armor plate of. With a flurry of shifting and compacting parts, Scorn is now in her teeny tiny mantis mode. Blitzwing grins back at Blast Off. "Got ourselves a little wager, then! Ha ha." He waves a hand after the shuttlecon as he stands to replenish their empty drinks. "Why not both?" Blitzwing turns back around on his bar stool, content to watch the women wrestle. He hoots with a resounding cheer as Scorn clamps down onto Apeface. He cups his mouth with both hands and shouts at Harrow. "But you have the worst customer service ever~. I think this is called karma! Ha ha!" Though suddenly Scorn mass-shunts and disappears, flitting over toward him and under an armor plate, despite his best effort to swat the thing out of the air, not realizing who it actually is. "Augh, get it off!" He shudders quite suddenly and violently twitches, "Ey, oh, eeeeeh, aaaaah, hahahaha, that tickles!" Apeface gets shot thanks to Triggerhappy's.. triggerhappiness but he doesn't seem to notice, too distracted by his head deciding to hop off his shoulders. "Hey! What the hell!? Get back on here, you little nerd! I was about to get a smooch!" Spasma crosses his arms and frowns. "No way! I've been stuck as your disgusting head for a week straight now. You know how long I've needed to go to the bathroom!? I had to go in my power suit! Do you realize how humiliating that was!?" Apeface bursts out into laughter, going so far as to slap a hand on his knee. "Haw haw haw! GRUNK! Yeah! That was HILARIOUS!" Harrow wails helplessly at karmatic justice. She leers up at Spasma and finally draws her scalpel. "YOU'RE repairing this, Dustoff! Ugh the stench..." Her surgical blade makes to slash across the horrible monkey paw that's holding her. Combat: Harrow sets her defense level to Fearless. Combat: Harrow strikes Apeface with her Vibro-Scalpel attack! Dustoff oooohs. "Come on now, Harrow, I only repair combat damage. This is drunken brawl damage." He lets out a disgusted 'ugh' as the smell hits. Though, he does look around... Where'd Scorn get off to? He still has her drink... He does take a quick swig of his own. "Just, uh... make sure there's as many broken parts as possible, you two." It isn't Scorn's intention to tickle Blitzwing, but at least she knows now that he is. Oh how amusing that'll be in the future. The tiny Insecticon skitters up along beneath his frame until she reaches the shoulder where tiny head pokes out, antennas swiveling about as she looks about to make sure it's safe. "Is it safe...?" She asks, though Blitzwing would be the only one to hear her since she's right next to his audial. Scorn makes sure to keep low either way while scoping out the fight ensuing with Harrow and Apeface, not eager to get in the middle of that. She also eyes her drink she'd left behind, a bit tempted to go get it. Hm. Blast Off nods to Blitzwing. "Very well." He prepares both and heads back to the triplechanger, heading him the drinks. "Uh... what got into you?" He asks, watching Blitz suddenly spazz out. "...Are you SURE you need anything more to drink?" Then he notices Scorn has disappeared and Harrow is attacking Apeface. He points. "Ha! I KNEW she would be the one!" No he didn't, but.... He turns to Blitz and looks smug. "Pay up." "Ooooh!" Triggerhappy watches with delight as Harrow takes out her anger on Apeface and strikes him with her scalpel. Finally, something interesting is happening! "Awww, Scorn don't be such a piston rod! Come on, get back in on the fun!" he encourages, wherever it was that the Insecticon has gone off to. The Targetmaster nudges Blast Off and Blitzwing. "So, who do you think it'll be?" he asks, in terms of Harrow vs. Apeface. "IT WAS NOT HILARIOUS!" Spasma shouts, pale face flushing red with anger. "I hate you SO much! I would rather be LITERALLY anyone else's Headmaster partner than yours! Even Snapdragon isn't as HORRIBLE as you are!" "Haw haw haw! Shut up, nerd!" Apeface grabs an empty bottle off a nearby table and tosses it at Spasma, just narrowly missing his head. Immediately afterwards, he gets a scalpel to the hand, causing a torrent of that foul liquid he calls blood to spew out like a geyser. Harrow must've knicked an artery or something because that stuff just GUSHES everywhere, getting all over the place. "OH DAMN! How am I supposed to give wedgies to nerds with my hand all messed up!? You know.. just for that, I think you owe me a little smooch, sweetheart!" He reaches over and grabs Spasma, crushing him in his grip until he's forced to transform back into his head mode (yelling and crying the entire time, of course) before slapping him back onto his neck. With his face back, the Horrorcon puckers his nasty lips at Harrow, grabbing her by the neck and threatening to give her the nastiest, smelliest, drooliest kiss ever imagined. Apeface transforms into a giant robot gorilla. GRUNK! Combat: Robotic Ape sets his defense level to Fearless. Combat: Robotic Ape strikes Harrow with his SMOOOOOCCHHHHHHH attack! Combat: That attack has locked on Harrow. (LOCKON) Dustoff can see everything as it's coming... and really? He's skittering away from the shed energon before it contaminates his own. With drinks in hand, of course. That does little to prepare him, though, when Apeface moves in, the inevitability of what's about to happen causing him to cringe... his laser core even feels like it's churning in his frame. "Oooh, this is not going to end well..." Blitzwing actually jumps a bit on his bar stool as someone from just over his shoulder has managed to sneak up on him. That hardly ever happens! Wait a cycle, that was Scorn's voice! Blitzwing's brow quirks quizically as he wheels around in search for the insectifemme, though he is unable to locate her. Then a pair of antenna bob languidly just in his peripheral vision. "Scorn? Huh! I did NOT know you could do that. Very interesting!" The triplechanger spins back to the scene playing out with Apeface, Harrow, and the others, just in time to receive two drinks from Blast Off. Blitzwing takes a long sip of one, craning his neck to regard Scorn, gently shaking the other drink in his hand at her. "Yeah, it's sa-," it is at this moment that Apeface plants a tsunami of filth and romance onto Harrow. "Uhhh... coast is clear." Harrow is not deaf to the snide little remarks coming from the peanut gallery. They'll pay, they'll all pay! Then, she's grabbed by the neck, and immediately begins to panic as the giant ape brings his awful lips up to her face. "No! NO! NO NO NO! Let GO OF ME YOU FILTHY-AIIEEEEE!" Her voice goes muffled as she's coated in god knows what, and she claws at his big monkey arms uselessly before passing right out. Blast Off watches Apeface kiss Harrow and even HE can't help but feel sorry for the femme. Uuugh. Harrow is not a friend, but she IS a medic... and perhaps it's time to help the medic, so she might feel inclined to help him when HE needs it later. "Alright, traumatizing our medic does nothing to help the decpticons in their next battle." He looks to Triggerhappy. "I can't believe I'm saying this to you.... but- time to start shooting!" And he fires at Apeface. Combat: Blast Off sets his defense level to Aggressive. Combat: Blast Off strikes Robotic Ape with his Medical Intervention attack! -2 "It's very useful." Scorn would smirk if she could, but you know, mantis face. Crawling out completely at the mention of it being safe to come out. It may be safe for her physical health, but not for her mental health when she spots Harrow getting a facefull of monkey love. "Dear Primus.." She has to choke back a sickened gag while covering mandibles with a bladed forearm. "Glad that wasn't me..." She gets a shiver, but tried to shake it off. The femme can't worry about Harrow right now, not when she has to get this horrid taste out of her mouth. Glaring at Triggerhappy a moment for his earlier remark she doesn't say anything and just snaps open wings to flutter down towards Dustoff who'll hear a 'tink' as she lands on her wine glass, just a tiny thing on the Cybertronian-sized stemware. "My thanks for keeping this safe." She remarks to the medic loud enough so he can hear before she tries to dip down into it and have a drink. Good Primus, poor Spasma! Blowpipe certainly feels sorry for the other Nebulan. He's been sitting on the bar the entire time, sipping a drink of his own. But now he has to agree with Blast Off, and he gives Triggerhappy a look. The Targetmaster grins. "Oooh, did someone say it's time to start shooting?!" Never mind the reasons behind it. And never mind that watching Harrow go into stasis lock from Apeface's nasty touch was somewhat amusing. Yes, shooting always overrules everything. He grabs Blowpipe, whose exosuit transforms before he levels a blast at Apeface. Combat: Triggerhappy's Shooting overrules everything attack on Robotic Ape goes wild! Combat: Triggerhappy strikes Harrow with his Shooting overrules everything attack! -2 Dustoff glances down at Scorn's drink and offers a curt nod. "Of course! Least I can do without breaking open the medical supplies." He looks back up at the scuffle as more shots start to ring out... "This is turning into a mess real fast," he mutters, shuffling to a corner where he won't likely end up in the line of fire, still holding Scorn's drink (and, by proxy, Scorn), since...bar fights tend to always end up with all the tables flipped or shot up. Robotic Ape drags his filthy, and unusually hairy (apparently mold can grow on Transformers, who knew?) tongue all over Harrow's face in the most vulgar display of affection ever seen. He stops only when she passes out at which point his laughs, hocks up a loogie, and then plops her down onto a bar stool. "Mmmmm.... that was good. Remind me to do that again sometime. Haw haw! GRUUUUUUNK!" He hocks up another loogie onto the ground except this one gets up and scurries away. Wait, what the hell was that anyway? Before Apeface can do anything else, he finds himself under attack from every direction. "Huuuuhnnn!?" Thankfully, Triggerhappy's blasts fly right past him and collide with the poor unconcious Harrow but he's not as lucky when it comes to Blast Off, taking the shots right in the chest. "OH! OHHOHOHO! SO IT'S THAT KIND OF PARTY, EH?" The Horrorcon grins and stands up on his hind legs, beating his chest while hooting and hollering. "YEAH! THAT'S WHAT I LIKE TO SEE! LET'S GET IT STARTED IN HEEEEEYYYAAAAHH!" Apeface rips a table from it's bolted position on the floor and throws it through the air, followed by a few chairs and bottles of expensive wine he snagged from behind the bar. Hell, even the barkeeper gets tossed around, the poor guy screaming the entire time. Combat: Robotic Ape strikes Triggerhappy with his Rampage Area attack! -1 Combat: Robotic Ape (Apeface) used "Rampage": A Level 3 AREA-MELEE attack. Combat: Robotic Ape strikes Blitzwing with his Rampage Area attack! -1 Combat: Robotic Ape strikes Blast Off with his Rampage Area attack! -1 Combat: Robotic Ape strikes Tiny Robotic Praying Mantis with his Rampage Area attack! -1 Combat: Robotic Ape strikes Harrow with his Rampage Area attack! -1 Combat: Robotic Ape strikes Dustoff with his Rampage Area attack! -1 Apeface says, "WOOOO! I'M A PARTY ANIMAL!" Apeface grunks. Scorn says, "Hnngh..." Aerospace Lt. Triggerhappy laughs wildly. Apeface says, "Awwwwwwwww, don't worry, Scorn. Grunkle Apeface will kiss it all better!" Blast Off says, "THIS IS NOT FUNNY. Do you think they are EVER letting us in this bar again??!!! I LIKE IT HERE!" Aerospace Lt. Triggerhappy says, "Tch, like they can keep us out, HAHAHAH!" Scorn says, "Don't make me feel worse than I am right now.." Blast Off hufffffffffffs Apeface says, "Ppfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffft." Dustoff says, "I'll break out the field pack." Apeface says, "Don't be such a nerd, Blast Off!" Blitzwing coughs sickly, nearly retching himself from having been a witness to Harrow's fate. He considered it karma a cycle ago, but this goes beyond any reasonable amount of punishment. He wouldn't even wish a thing like this on Air Raid. Well... yeah, that's not true. Blitzwing brings his frosted beer glass to his lips and drowns the entire quantity of beer in one long draw to counteract the effect of that grotesque display. In the meantime, Scorn flitters off of his shoulder and across the room. The triplechanger finishes, and gives a disinterested shrug as his offer goes overlooked, and instead drinks from the fuu fuu martini, clearly happy with remaining a spectator as guns start blazing right next to him. That is until Apeface goes Ape-/SHIT/, and upends the entire bar, himself included. Blitzwing, now wearing a table for a hat and lying prostrate, grabs at the furniture and tosses it aside, standing slowly and cracking the knuckle-servos of his digits one at a time in succession. "...you made me spill my drink. Not cool." Harrow is shot, then plunked onto a stool, only to get thrown off by Apeface's rampaging. And there she remains, face down and covered in slimy filth. Good times. Blast Off 's shots connects, then the sniper has to stifle a facepalm as Triggerhappy shoots Harrow isntead. "Idiot! You're supposed to be HELPING her! How is that HELPING her?!?" He edges away from Triggerhappy and glares as he sees Dustoff scurrying away. "You're a medic, too. Shouldn't you be helping your colleague?" Suddenly, an ape-shaped tornado seems to tear across the bar, even hitting Blast Off... who is quite inebriated at this point and not exactly light on his toes. "That DOES IT. I like this bar, and you are NOT tearing it to pieces like that and getting away with it!" He shoots at Apeface again. Ah, speaking of karma, this feels like payback. Blitzwing says, "You're going to need more than a field pack." Combat: Blast Off strikes Robotic Ape with his Karma is a ***** attack! "I'll say. Maybe we should get out of here.." Scorn agrees with Dustoff, her voice a little echoey from dipping into the glass to have a drink. Unable to enjoy it though she looks up to see what else these idiots are getting up to and-- ...Is that a table coming for them? Damn. It slams into them full force, the glass knocked away and shattering as the tiny mantis body of Scorn hits the ground hard and bounces a few feet until coming to a halt. She's not looking so good with overall swatted appearance with some armor buckled, a bent antenna, and two of four legs twitching. <> Yep, she's hurting. Dustoff spies the table and turns to shield his drinks! Or...maybe Scorn. Who knows? Though, Apeface has some serious heat on that thrown table coming his way, and it slams the medic nice and solid, sending him into the wall he'd opted to seek shelter by with a hefty thud. A second thud is heard audibly as he drops to the ground after with a grunt... "Ugh, that hurt." He looks around... Scrap, where'd the drinks go? Scrap, where'd Scorn go? "You alright there, Scorn? Where're you at?" He taps the side of his head to get his optics focused right, rolling to his feet and running a self-diagnostic. So, situation... There's a passed out Harrow, a bar that has pieces of everything with everyone getting smacked by it... Dustoff grumbles a few choice obscenities to himself and pulls his battlefield medpack out. Time to get some work done, it seems. To Blast Off, Dustoff just grunts. "Hey! If I get blasted, I'm not about to be helping anymech! Control the beast, let me worry about the rest." He makes his way towards Scorn, shouldering a table up to act as a makeshift barricade between Apeface and his hasty work-station. "You good to grow a bit? I didn't bring the magnifying glass with me." He whistles to Triggerhappy. "Hey! Drag Harrow over here!" Triggerhappy is having a fine time shooting Apeface/Harrow. Thank Primus Harrow had been in stasis lock, otherwise he might have to worry if she ever got assigned to repairing him again. Then Apeface suddenly goes crazy and starts throwing tables and bartenders around, and maybe even other patrons, who knows? And yelling about a being a party animal, which Triggerhappy finds hilarious for some reason and bursts out laughing. Unfortunately, he's so busy cracking up that he gets a barstool to the face, knocking him over and sending him careening into a wall behind the bar with a SMASH. The back of his torso smacks into a rack of tubes and other machinery that's probably an engex distillation unit or something. It shatters into a million pieces, sending the engex out and all over the floor. He gets up, though, still laughing. "HAHAHAHH! Now that's one way to party!" And then he transforms, and his photon pulse guns start going off in every imaginable direction. He ignores Dustoff. Triggerhappy transforms into a blue and white Cybertronian aircraft. It hurts, oh does it hurt, but Scorn complies and manages to shift her mass back to her usual mantis altmode, not wanting to actually transform with her injuries. Scorn crouches before shifting into her scythe-armed mantis mode. Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter 's Here's another way! attack on Blitzwing goes wild! Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter strikes Blitzwing with his Here's another way! (Full-Auto) Area attack! Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter 's Here's another way! attack on Blast Off goes wild! Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter strikes Robotic Praying Mantis with his Here's another way! (Full-Auto) Area attack! Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter 's Here's another way! attack on Robotic Praying Mantis goes wild! Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter strikes Vortex with his Here's another way! (Full-Auto) Area attack! Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter 's Here's another way! attack on Harrow goes wild! Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter misses Blitzwing with his Here's another way! (Full-Auto) Area attack! Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter 's Here's another way! attack on Dustoff goes wild! Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter misses Blast Off with his Here's another way! (Full-Auto) Area attack! Robotic Ape seems unperturbed by all the chaos he is causing. In fact, he seems like he's enjoying it. A lot. Like, WAY too much. How did this guy get to become a special unit again? "LET'S PAAAARRRTTTAAAAAAYYYYYY!" The giant robot ape grabs a fistful of bottles from what's left of the bar, chugging them all at once while swinging from a light fixture hanging from the ceiling. "WOOOOOOOOOOOOO-" He belches loudly, bits and pieces of only god knows what flying from his gaping mouth and splattering all over the floor below him. "-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Apeface's destructive partying is momentarily interupted when Blast Off shoots him right out of the air, causing the massive Horrorcon to come falling down down down onto the ground with a loud CRASH. "Awww maaaann, who invited THIS buzzkill?" he grunts, rubbing the back of his head with an oversized hand. "Booo! You suck, Blast Off! You're not fun anymore now that you got rid of you scraplets!" Apeface tosses a beer bottle at him. Combat: Robotic Ape misses Blast Off with his Bottle Throw (Punch) attack! Harrow wakes up in a pool of engex, which isn't terrible. She groans and barely manages to slip out of the way when Triggerhappy's shots fly everywhere. Doesn't look like he'll be dragging her anywhere. She slides torwards the nearest overturned table and ducks behind it, all the while trying to scrape Apeface's filth off of her armor. Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter strikes Robotic Ape with his And I forgot you! (Laser) attack! Blast Off nods to Dustoff. "My PLEASURRRE!" His words are probably starting to slur slightly. Triggerhappy proceeds to add to the fracas, seeming to hit almost everyone ...but NOT him, thankfully. Blast Off is a Combaticon, and all those military practice sessions with his teammates and his naturally quick reflexes seem to finally reawaken. He also spots Apeface's attack in time, jumping out of the way and leaping behind a downed bar table. There's still a slight static in his optics from all the night's drinks as he just snerks at the big ape. "And you don't know when you're overstayed your welcome! Now behave yourself, or get out of this bar!" Yes, from a mech who was stating how much he hates bars earlier, he sure seems attached to this one now. He fires again to make a point. Combat: Blast Off strikes Robotic Ape with his Blast Off Beer Defender attack! Gunfire rips through his rather shoddy cover, and Dustoff tries to pull a traditional medic move, shielding Scorn from any further damage after the first few break through. It's not fast enough to catch all of it, but he was caught off-guard. "I will break you all and refuse to fix you!" He keeps himself interposed between the chaos and his patient as best he can, opening his medkit to pull out some instruments here and there. "Alright... Just hold on for me here," Dustoff grunts. First things first, he starts clamping off any ruptured energon lines to keep that from being an issue, followed by stabilizing any broken struts and joints on the insecticon. "Swear, going to murder someone when this is done..." He pulls a thin metal plate and spot-welds it into place to seal off the worst of the breaks in her armor. It's quick work. Not pretty; not neatly dressed. Just quick and effective. Combat: Dustoff quickly patches up some of Robotic Praying Mantis 's minor injuries. Blitzwing grunts derisively as he is peppered with wild laser fire from Triggerhappy, and in reflexive response the triplechanger chucks the same table that Apeface clocked him with earlier at the Targetmaster absently. "You're next, moron!," Blitzwing thunders at Triggerhappy before lumbering over to the upended Apeface, lifting one thick arm up and clenching his hand into a purple wrecking ball of a fist. With the other hand, he rolls the ape-bot over, sneering. "You're cut off, Mighty Joe Young," the triplechanger growls, throwing his fist into Apeface's... ape face. Combat: Blitzwing strikes Robotic Ape with his Time For Spasma To Spasm (Punch) attack! Robotic Praying Mantis is even shot too by Triggerhappy. She's gonna have to slap him sometime for that. For now though she just winces during the procedure, but she trusts Dustoff enough to know what he's doing and not give her a terrible bedside manner like most other Con medics. So she doesn't complain and lets him work. "You and me both.." She grunts, looking rough by the end of it, but good enough to move at least. "I'm not about to worry about that now though." With a soft hiss of pain the femme struggles back to her feet and scales the medic after shifting back to tiny mode, content to hide away in his armor until they get back to a proper medbay. "Hope you don't mind me hitching a ride back." With a flurry of shifting and compacting parts, Scorn is now in her teeny tiny mantis mode. Triggerhappy's jet form is spinning around near the ceiling, spraying high-energy photons everywhere, when Blitzwing throws a table at him. Too overcharged to even see it coming, it smacks the Targetmaster in the undercarriage, and he falls down toward the triplechanger as the other throws a fist into Apeface's disgusting face. That poor bartender... Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter strikes Blitzwing with his Some karma for you too. (Ram) attack! Robotic Ape scrambles to the where the booze bottles were kept before he went ape shit and destroyed everything. Unfortunately, it would seem that nothing else has survivedhis rampage, the bar's once pristine stock now a pile of broken glass and shattered dreams. He grunks, waving a dismissive hand at Blast Off as he shoots at him. "Pfft! Don't be such a Debbie Downer, ya big nerd! Ain't no thing like a chicken wing!" Apeface has no idea what that means but he heard someone say it once so now it's his new favorite thing ever. Blitwing's punch to the face is a little harder to ignore and, since the big burly triplechanger is practically on-par with the Horrorcon both strength and size-wise, it sends him reeling backwards into a pileof upturned tables. He crashes into them, smashing them underneath his weight and reducing them to rubble. "Pffffhahahahaha! GRUNK! Good one, Blitzer!" Apeface spits out an energon-splattered tooth and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. "Ehhhh but you know what? This was fun and all but I'm bored now. No more booze, what's the point?" Apeface transforms into his super awesome jet mode that is totally not an SR-71 (SERIOUSLY GUYS, IT JUST LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE ONE OKAY?) and takes off, engines roaring while spewing flames and setting a bunch of stuff on fire. "SEE YA LATER, SHITLORDS! GRUUUUNK!" Apeface transforms into a sick spaceplane! Combat: Futuristic Spaceplane begins retreating, outrunning all pursuit. Harrow curls her fingers over the edge of the table and peers. Triplechanger fight! The galaxy would be a better place without them. Apeface then eats it and takes off, leaving the place in utter disarray. Harrow promptly looks around for someone to blame. Dustoff says, "It's fine, don't worry about it." He glances at the armor panel in question. Well, if another table comes his way, he'll know which shoulder NOT to put into it. He watches as Cons turn on other Cons, muttering... Ugh. Who's not fighting? He looks at everything... Apeface is leaving. Triggerhappy opened fire on Blitzwing, his drink is spilled on the floor... He turns his attention to Harrow, the only (possible) non-combatant not attended to, and ducks behind the table she's opted to hide behind. "You holding up back here?" He offers her a rag to wipe off...gunk. "I'll wait for the dust to clear a bit, I think there's still someone shooting at someone. Then I've got to get wounded out of here, ugh..." Apeface says, "Thanks for the party guys! Let's do it again sometime." Aerospace Lt. Triggerhappy laughs. "Any time, Apesla--I mean, Apeface." Blast Off pffts as Apeface says...whatever the slag he just said. It made absolutely NO sense to him whatsoever, but that could just be because he's drunk. But... he does state, "WHAT? I'm NOT A NERD!" He then goes on to stagger back to what's left of the bar table as he mutters, "Just 'cause I like... outer space n' science 'n stars n' stuffff..." He leans against the bar and pours another drink. "Have I mentioned how much I like this bar?" He asks to no one in particular. Combat: Blast Off takes extra time to steady himself. Pass Blitzwing rises up with a satisfactory huff as he sends Apeface careening off into a pile of junk across the room. The triplechanger whips the fist back up, then slaps his hands together as though cleaning them of debris. "Poof! Bitch begone." That heady moment of satisfaction doesn't last for long, though, as Blitzwing gets landed upon by a freaking jet. In the middle of a bar. Who writes these scripts? The triplechanger is violently forced to the deck by the sheer weight of the Targetmaster, and Blitzwing roars out from under Triggerhappy's fuselage, clawing for purchase along the craft's panel lines. Blitzwing eventually finds a seam, digging his thick digits into it and through great effort, lifts Triggerhappy up on his shoulders, slowly. "Your turn!" Blitzwing then attempts to powerbomb a jet. This is a crazy night. Combat: Blitzwing strikes Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter with his Compliments of Captain Insano (Smash) attack! Combat: Blitzwing (Blitzwing) used "Smash": A Level 3 MELEE attack. Harrow catches the rag and manages to clear away /most/ of the gunk. Some of it is moving. This substance should be studied. "I'm just dandy. I wouldn't worry about Triggerhappy, I think Blitzwing is going to take him out... ACK!" She flinches and ducks again when Triggerhappy is POWERBOMBED. Triggerhappy is powerbombed, and his jet form is flung across the room, smashing into Blast Off as the Combaticon starts to pour himself another drink. That is, if the agile shuttleformer doesn't manage to jump out of the way in time. His pulse guns just keep on going off as he laughs drunkenly. "Hahahahahah...heheheh...why d'you even care what he thinks...Babe Off...." he slurs. Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter strikes Blast Off with his Powerbombed (Ram) attack! Dustoff sighs and watches Triggerhappy still going berserk. Or... ugh. He pulls out his rifle and sights in on Triggerhappy. "Should I try to knock him out?" It's an honest question posed to Harrow, and he's already squeezing the trigger in anticipation of- Slag, who's he kidding. "Eh, I'll fix him after..." Benefits of the job. He squeezes off a round. Maybe Triggerhappy will be too drunk to figure out where it came from anyway. Combat: Dustoff sets his defense level to Aggressive. Combat: Dustoff strikes Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter with his I'll fix you tomorrow! attack! Combat: Dustoff (Dustoff) used "Photon Burst Rifle": A Level 4 RANGED attack. Blast Off watches as Blitzwing practices his upcoming Olympic discus-throwing skills with Triggerhappy. Or at least that's how it looks to Blast Off right now. "Nice, Blitzwing! You're going to make the Gold in no time! ....There, Triggerha... happ... Trig! It's about time you made yourself useful!" He snorts and goes back to his drink, not noticing that Triggerhappy is actually sailing through the air TOWARDS him. ***CRASH!*** He, and his drink, go flying, and it is losing his drink that really makes him mad. Well, that and the whole "Babe Off" thing. "THAT DOES IT. NOT YOU TOO." He whips out his ionic blaster and fires at Triggerhappy. "This is for you shooting me earlier. AND- I AM NOT BABE OFF!!!!" After he takes the shot, he looks over and glares at Blitzwing, too. Then rummages around for another drink. Combat: Blast Off strikes Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter with his Sailor SLOSHED (Laser) attack! Combat: Blast Off (Blast Off) used "Laser": A Level 2 RANGED attack. Harrow waves her hand dismissvely, not that it would matter. "Laser shots aren't too hard to mend," she asides, then lifts her voice, "Hold your fire, Triggerhappy, Blast Off!" She then sinks back behind the table. "Nrgh, they're drunk, it's useless." Blitzwing howls in exasperation as he sends Triggerhappy sailing off across the bar, despite how ridiculous the sight may seem. The triplechanger glowers, standing erect slowly as pistons whine from having just shouldered an entire jet. Blitzwing snorts down at the rest of the Decepticons left alive before turning and beginning to kick tables, chairs, and actual people out of the way of his path. What's he getting into now? Blitzwing stops suddenly and plucks a scrambling figure from beneath some rubble, holding him bodily aloft by the scruff of the neck. Blitzwing screams in his face. "Bartender! Get me another beer!" Blitzwing then tosses the bartender to the floor without warning, looking over his shoulder, "Anyone else for another round?" Triggerhappy cackles at Blast Off's rage, even as the Combaticon shoots him again. One of his engines is effectively on fire right now. "Hahahahhahah! Babe Off! Baaaaabe Off....Babe Off....Babe Ooooooffff...." he taunts in a singsong voice as he flies out, not bothering to use the door or any windows for that matter. Nope, he just makes a hole in the roof with his pulse guns and flies out of there. Combat: Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Futuristic Spaceplane Dustoff watches Triggerhappy depart and grunts. "He'll be back... Or, in the repair bay." He stows his rifle and looks at his shoulder... "You still there, Scorn? I'm ready to get back to the bay myself." He glances over at Blast Off, then Blitzwing, and just shrugs as he starts for the door, whistling softly all the while. Dustoff says, "I'll be on standby for the next cycle if anyone wants to get holes patched up after this little debacle." Harrow gives the place a once-over to make sure no one is on the brink of death, then sneaks away from the shelter of the table after Dustoff. "Good luck with the hangovers tomorrow, fellow 'cons! Hail Galvatron!" Blast Off holds up an arm towards Blitzwing. "ME. You OWE me for spilling my drink just now." Triggerhappy keeps calling him "Babe Off" and he turns and fires a few shots in the other Con's direction, but just misses as the jet blasts out of the bar. "And watch where you ignite those engines inside the building!!!!" He swings back around. "Really. Does NO ONE know how to treat a bar with the respect it deserves? ...Heathens, all of you..." Blitzwing despite the condition of the place, somehow has a pair of beers put into his hands. He watches the majority of the Decepticons depart, shrugs, then plods over and hands Blast Off a glass, slapping mugs together with a resounding crystalline *tink!* before drinking heavily. "Hail Meg- err, Galvatron!"